


Bottle Cap Drabble - Appetizer

by sabby1



Series: Bottle Cap Drabbles [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know how you can eat those. They’re disgusting.” Buffy plops down on the worn vinyl booth cushion and stares across the table at Spike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottle Cap Drabble - Appetizer

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for a co-worker of mine who helpfully provided the pairing and picked from a selection of outstanding Bottle Caps. 
> 
> There are others up for grabs. Leave me a note in my inbox if you would like me to write 200 words about your favorite pairing. I'll do any fandom and any pairing. 
> 
> Outstanding Bottle Caps: 
> 
> Caterpillar
> 
> Bedtime Story
> 
> An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away
> 
> Loaded Dice
> 
> Beer Coaster
> 
> Bartender
> 
> Eager Beaver

“I don’t know how you can eat those. They’re disgusting.” Buffy plops down on the worn vinyl booth cushion and stares across the table at Spike.

He meets her wrinkled nose and acerbic comment with an indulgent smile. “You don’t know what you’re saying, luv. They’re delicious.” He slowly lifts one of the fried petals to his mouth and flicks his tongue out to catch it, deliberately humming low in his throat as he closes his lips over the treat.

Buffy wrinkles her nose even harder. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

Spike raises both eyebrows high. “Yeah? How so?” he asks innocently as he plucks another petal from the fried blooming onion in front of him. He gives it the same treatment as before and finishes off by licking just the pads of his index and middle finger, all the while leering at Buffy.

She crosses her arms over her chest and wiggles in her seat. “You’re disgusting.”

Spike pulls his thumb between his lips and sucks on the pad. “Uh-huh.”

Ten minutes later, they are making out under the staircase to the catwalk and Buffy’s hand is under his shirt.

The rest of Spike’s appetizer sits forgotten on the table.


End file.
